
PS 3529 
.S144 
U6 
1911 
Copy 1 


O PLAYS EXCHANGED. ^ 


UP AGAINST IT 

Price, 15 Cents 



G«PYRI«HT, tMt, BY WALTIR H. BAKER 4 















































a. W* ^mero’s 

l^ricc, 50 Centjst Cacli 


THF AMA70NS Three Acts. Seven males, Ive lemaies. 

^ Costumes, modern ; scenery, not difS cult Plays 
a full evening. 

TOE CABINET MINISTER 

Bceneiy, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

DANDY DICK ^ Three Acts. Seven males, four females. 

Costumes, modem; scenery, two interiors. Playf 
two hours and a half. 

TUP fiAY LORD OUFX ^ Pour Acts. Four males ten 

^ ^ females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 

two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening 

HIS HOnSF IN ORDFR comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, fo»r 
^ females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 

three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THF HORRY HORSF comedy m Three Acts. Ten males, five 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy. 
Plays two hours and a half. 

IRIS Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes, 
modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

I ADV ROUNTIFIII ^ Four Acts. Eight males, seven fe- 
^ males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, four in¬ 

teriors, not easy. Plays a full evening. 

I FTTY Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five fe- 

^ males. Costumes, modern ; scenery complicated. Plays a 

full evening. 


Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

l^alter 1^. 'Bafeer & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 













Up Against It 

A Farce in One Act 


By 

INNIS GARDNER OSBORN 

Author of^^An Easy Mark^' etc. 


BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 




Up Against It 




CHARACTERS 

Mr. Richard Fellowes, very much to be married, 

Mr. Robert Fellowes, of the floor below, 

Hon. Henry Fellowes, Richard's tmcle. 

Algernon Fitzgibbons, an ex-prize-fighter, 

Rastus, Richard Fellowes' mafi. 

Miss Madelene Harrington, in love with RichardFelloives. 
Miss Marjorie Harrington, to marry Robert Fellowes, 

Miss Patience Dempster, a decided sphister in search of a 
husband. (Can be played best by a jnan ,) 

Special effort should be made to have the make-up of both 
Fitzgibbons and Patience as absurd as possible. The latter 
should wear corkscrew curls, old-fashioned dress and carry in 
addition to hand-bag and boxes a bird cage with a Teddy Bear 
or the like in it. Both roles might be taken by the same 
person. 

Scene. —Den in the apartments of Richard Fellowes, New 
York. 

Time. —The present. 



Copyright, 1910, by Walter H. Baker &; Co. 
©CID 22 ^ 1 ^ 





















up Against It 


SCENE .—All ordinary box set with wide door and curtains 
/;/C., reary showing hallway. Entrancesoneachside^op- 
'posite each other. The one r. of stage leads to a conserva¬ 
tory, and the opposite one Richard Fellowes’ bedroom. 

Tor^nentors may be used at the front 07i each side to make 
Hvo more doors. Chairs on each side of the rear door. 
Piajio below rear door on R. of stage. Opposite, 07i l. of 
stage, a bookcase filled with books. On top of this a tele¬ 
phone. To the front of stage slightly to the left of c., a 
S7nall table a7id two chairs. 

(Rastus peers m door at rise atid the7t co77ies dowtt stage to 
chair beside table, where he seats himself. Has glass of 
le77ionade in his hand, a7id is suckhig through a straw.') 

Ras. This am certainly what ah choose to circumspect as 
solid comfort. Ah feels jess like leanin’ forward an’ say in’, 
“Boy-boy, bring me up the evenin’ paper, an’ when yo’ comes 
in blow the outside air off yo’ pusson so as not to dilute it with 
this yere inward warmth.” {^Feet on table.) Dat’s de sort of 
life ah leads in this yere place. Yas ah does. Dese clothes 
of some base menial don’t mean nothin’ ’bout mah true char¬ 
acter. Lordy, no. Ah is de boss shadder of this yere dream 
story. When ah. wants to smoke ah reaches forward like this. 
(7'akes cigar.) My, but they certainly have fallen off in taste. 
Some people says to me, “ Why don’t yo’ join a union ? ” No, 
siree; no union for this dark and fearsome angel. An’ the 
master? Why, he jess the slave to my slightest wish. Oh, 
yas,die is. He’s going to be married, an’ he ain’t been home 
in fo’ days. My, but I’se goin’ to be harsh with him. This 
yere telegraphical says that the lady of his busom is to be here, 
and his uncle jess called up on that rigamarmus saying he will 
be up to supper, an’ he ain’t been here to get the news. Mah 

3 



4 


UP AGAINST IT 


word, but he am de most carelessness man I ever did see. 
'Tain’t no use talkin’. This being the only color in de rain¬ 
bow am certainly salubrious. Why, I’se de only little raindrop 
in de whole storm. {^Sieps off stage.) I’se got a feelin’ dat he 
am a-comin’. Where I gwine put this seegar ? Lordy, Lordy ! 
(^Puts it on bookcase.) There he is safe. Duster, duster, 
where is you ? 

{Picks up duster and begins worky smgingy ** I^se a busy 
man from night till morfiP) 

Enter Rich., laughmg. 

Rich. Busy, aren’t you ? My hat, my coat. Rastus, some 
one has been smoking in here. 

R.\s. {sniffing). That’s perzactly what ah thot, sah, but ah 
cain’t find no signs of it, sah. 

Rich. Might be just as well then if you took that cigar oif 
of the bookcase before it catches fire. 

Ras. {removing cigar). Now, I wonder how that ever came 
there, sah ? 

Rich, {commg down stage). Rastus, were you ever forced 
to marry a woman against your will ? 

Ras. Lordy, 1 was never nowise. 

Rich. Then don’t do it. There is absolutely nothing in it. 

Ras. He’s raving. 

Rich. Well, any one or anything for me ? 

Ras. De same collectors, sah, as- 

Rich. Oh, Rastus, I mean any one of any importance? 

Ras. {taking telegram). Nothin’ but this piece of yaller 
paper, sah. The boy said that it was a hurry message, so I 
took- 

Rich. The liberty of opening it and reading it to see if it 
was a proper thing for me to see, I suppose. {Crosses to table.) 
Rastus, I have often thought that I would consult you with re¬ 
gard to my wines before I served them to my guests. You 
ought to be quite a connoisseur by this time—at least in my 
wines. Well, what did it say? 

Ras. The lady of yo’ heart done get here this afternoon, 
sah. 

Rich, {sinking into chair). What? 

Ras. She wrote it, sah ; I didn’t. Lord knows the writtin 
was bad enuf. 




UP AGAINST IT 5 

Rich, (^pacing floor'). Rastus, are you sure that you have 
read it correctly? Are you positive there is no error? 

Ras. Didn’t say nothin’ about no error, sah. 

Rich. 1 suppose that you are right. Any news from my 
uncle ? 

Ras. Oh, yas, sah. Good news, sah. He jess called up 
that he would be up to take supper with you. 

Rich. Worse and worse. Rastus, the news is bad enough, 
but there is a funereal darkness about your face that—get out 
of here. 

Ras. Yas, sah, but- 

Rich. Get out of here, you piece of black ebony. 

Ras. Ah may be ebony, sah, but don’t yo’ scratch this yere 
ebony the wrong way, or I- 

Rich. Beat it. 

Ras. I’se a flyin’, sah. \^Exity rear door. 

Rich, {sitting on piano stool). Up against it at last. This 
marriage by arrangement. Two fond parents fix the whole 
thing up about the time that you are chewing the varnish off 
the front stairs, and it is marry the girl or you don’t get the 
money. Never saw the girl—no one ever has, as far as I can 
make out. Don’t even know her first name. She’s never seen 
me, and I suppose that she is cursing the day that I was born. 
And you {taking photo from pia7io)^ my dear Madelene, the best 
little girl in the world, you won’t marry me because you wish 
me to do as my parents desired. You would step aside and let 
another girl take your place. Oh, it’s funny. It’s too funny. 
It's just like the story in a comic paper, except that the joke is 
on me. 

Enter Ras., with clothes^ from rear door. 

Ras. Yo’ wedding garments, sah. They certainly am 
beauties. \^Exit into door l. c. 

Rich. My wedding garments ! Oh, Lord ! Rastus, Ras¬ 
tus ! {Enter Ras.) By the way, Rastus, I think I will wear 
those clothes first this time. 

Ras. All right, sah. Anyway, you done.got the sleeves 
jess a little bit too long this time, sah. 

Rich. I did, eh? Well, f am awfully sorry. Is that all? 

Ras. ' No, dat ain’t all. Dere’s a lady waitin’ down-stairs, 
sah. 

Rich, {jumping up). A lady? Rastus, are you sure it is 
a lady? 




6 


UP AGAINST IT 


Ras. Well, she certainly looked very much to de fluffy 
ruffles, sail. 

Rich. (to.). Think hard. 

Ras. I’se a-thinkin’, sah. 

Rich. Use what little intellect you have. 

Ras. I’se a-intellectin’, sah. 

Rich. She doesn’t look—like a woman—a woman who 
would try to kidnap a man, does she ? 

Ras. Kidnipper ? Well, ah cain’t perzactly say, sah, but 
if she am a kidnipper dis yere coon am tied hand and foot, an’ 
too weak to resistance her. 

Rich. Admit the lady. 

Ras. Shall be admitted. \^Exit rear door. 

Rich, {following him to door'). It’s all over. {Comes doivn 
stage.) Farewell to hope, farewell, oh happiness. Oh, I’m 
so happy, 1 feel like a man slipping over a precipice and listen¬ 
ing to his friend’s comments on the lovely obituary he will get 
after his pieces have been collected at the bottom. 

Enter Ras , rear door. 

Ras. De kidnipper, sah. 

Enter Miss Madelene Harrington, same door. 

Rich. Madelene! 

Ras. Another time ah played on the black and lost. I 
guess dere ain’t gwine be no kidnippin’ to-day. 

\_Exit, rear door. 

Rich, {both down stage). Madelene, what does this mean ? 

Mad. It means that I can’t let you go after all, Dickie. It 
means that I love you altogether too much to give you up to 
that other woman, whether it is right or wrong. She can’t 
have you even if your father did arrange it. You belong tome. 

Rich. Madelene, you have made me just the happiest man 
in tlie world. I’ll jump to the window and hail a cab, and- 

Mad. But, Dickie, dear, I have no bridesmaids. 

Rich. Oh, never mind that, dear. I tell you what we can 
do. We will rig up Rastus in a lace curtain and let him play 
the double role of best man and maid of honor. It will be 
mighty funny. Well, are you ready? 

Mad. If you wish it. 

Rich. If I wish it? {Kisses her.) I will jump to the 
window {going to window)^ hail a cab, and- 




UP AGAINST IT 


7 


{Staggers back.) 

Mad. Why, Dickie—Dickie, dear, what is the matter? 

Rich. Uncle is down there in his car, and he is coming up 
here. 

Mad. But he mustn’t find me here. 

Rich. You bet he mustn’t find you here. But where can 
you go? (Mad. starts for door rear.) No, you can’t go out 
there; you would meet him. {She starts for door i..) You 
can’t go into my room. Oh, if we only had an air-ship. 

Ras. {off stage). Look out for them stairs, sah. This way, 
sail. 

(Rich, and Mad. against rear ivall, hand in hand.) 

Hon. Henry Fellowes {off stage). Phew ! what a climb ! 

Rich. Madge, we are cornered. He will be here in a 
minute, and we have got to meet him face to face. 

Mad. But, Dickie, dear- 

Rich. I have an idea. {Goes to rear door.) It is the 
only way out of this fix. Do it, and you will save both our 
skins. You have got to be the girl he wants me to marry. 

Uncle has never seen her, and it will be all right if- 

{Enter Hen. Rich, seizes his hat.) Uncle, I am so glad 
you have come. 

Hen. My hat, .you young idiot. Do you want to ruin it ? 

Rich. Yes—that is, no, uncle. 

Hen. Phew ! but that was a climb. 

Rich. Elevator’s off. Everything’s off to-day. 

Hen. Yes? Well, never mind. {Goes to windoiv.) The 
view is worth it when you get up here. 

Rich, {folloiving him). Yes, it is ; and the higher you go 
the better it is. Now, up on the roof- 

Hen. Not so fast, my boy, not so fast. I may be a high¬ 
flier, but 1 am not on a trip to tjie moon this particular time. 
Besides, these wings of mine {bns. with his ears) are not 
working. Hullo! So the fair maiden has arrived, has she ? 
{Bns. behind his back.) Egad, boy, she is a thoroughbred. 
You don’t deserve her. But come—come, am I such an old 
fogie that you can’t introduce me? 

Rich, {laughing). Old fogie ! Such a joke, uncle. {Aside.) 
I wonder what the devil her name is. {Aloud.) My darling— 
uncle, dearest—oh, this is my very dear uncle. {Aside.) 
Thank God, that is over. 





8 


UP AGAINST IT 


Hen. {to Mad.). And so you are the girl that my brother 
picked out for the lad, eh ? Well, 1 shall kiss you for- 

Rich. Don’t you think, uncle, that we might- 

Hen. Never mind what I think. Just watch what I do. 
{Kisses her.) And there is another one for myself. {Kisses 
her.) Not jealous, are you, you young idiot? By George, 
boy, but she is a thoroughbred. Well, come, take me to my 
room where I can get some of the mu3 off of my clothes. 
(Rich, crosses to door oti L., rear.) If you {to Mad.) will 
pardon me, my dear. 

Rich. Oh, yes, Madelene. 

Hen. Madelene ? 

Rich. Certainly—Madelene. 

Hen. But who the devil, sir, is Madelene? 

Rich. Why, she is; didn’t you know it? 

Hen. I know, sir, that she is Patience. 

Mad. Yes, Patience Madelene, uncle dear. 

Hen. Oh, I see. Well, come along, my boy. 

[^Exeunt'R ich, and Hen., l., rear. 

Mad. Now this is a lovely state of affairs. I don’t know 
who I am from the man in the moon, where I come from or 
what I have ever done in my life. {^Telephone rings. She 

goes to telephone.) Yes—hullo.Oh, yes, Mr. Fellowes lives 

here.No, the seventh floor.No, Mr. Richard Fellowes, 

not Mr. Robert Fellowes, lives—hullo—hullo*- {Hangs np 

telepho7ie.) Now who can that be? {Telephone rings; she 

goes to it.) Hullo.Yes?.Oh, yes, Dick—that is, Mr. 

Richard Fellowes lives here.What is that?.You—are— 

waiting—at—the—station ?.I—dear me—I do hope that you 

are a good waiter.._Yes, Dick is on his way down to meet 

you. Wait until he comes, won’t you? Don’t move an inch, 
will you, please ? {Haftgs up telephone.) The girl Dick is to 
marry. 

Rich, {entering talkhig). -Anything you can’t find, uncle, 
just- 

Mad. Dick, if you love me, tell me who I am. 

Rich, {commg dow7i stage with her). Why, you are just 
the best- 

Mad. No— no. What is my new name? 

' Rich. Oh, yes, that’s so. I’ve got it. You are Patience 
Dempster. 

Mad. Who ? 

Rich. Patience Dempster. 
















UP AGAINST IT Q 

Mad. Then I have just called up to let you know that I 
am waiting at the station. 

Rich. The devil! I beg your pardon, my dear. She 
must be stopped; she must be headed off before she can get 
here. Rastus! Rastus ! 

Enter Ras., rear door. 

Ras. I’se a-comin’, sah, I’se fly in’, sah. 

Rich. Rastus, get me a cab. Make one if you have to, 
but get it and get it in a hurry. 

Ras. Yes, sah. Til be a regular dusty tornado at gettin’ it, 
sah. (^Exit, rear door.') One cab, man’s size, an’ in a 
hurry, even if you have to build it an’ draw it wif speerit 
horses. 

Rich. I am on my way, my dear. I will tell her that the 
place has blown up, burned down, subway has caved in and 
swallowed up the whole plant. Then 1 will steer her off to 
some hotel until you and I can be married. Keep up your 
nerve, little girl, and tell uncle—oh, any old thing. 

\^Exit, rear door^ on the run. 

Mad. (^following to the door^ But, Dick, how will you 
know her- 


Enter from door L., rear. 

Hen. Ah, this is a great deal better. Hullo, where is the 
young dog ? 

Mad. Oh, uncle dear, Dick has had—he has been called 
away suddenly. It was a lawsuit—and she said—he said— 
oh, he said that I was to tell you any old thing. 

{Bus. at door.) 

Hen. And you are all upset because he has left you. 

{Sits at table.) 

Mad. (aside). He doesn’t know how true that is. 

Hen. {picking up paper). Confound the boy ! Hang his 
business! Can’t he forget it for a moment? But there, we 
won’t worry. {She cojfies down and sits at opposite side of 
table.) I am afraid, my dear, that you will have to take the 
boy in hand a bit. You see, for two years I have been out of 
the country. Had I been here it might have been different. I 
am sorry to say he has been in the habit of making his world 



10 


UP AGAINST IT 


these rooms and his life a lot of leather-bound books. Study, 
study, study^ That is all the boy has thought of. 

Mad. {aside). And we have been to the theatre at least 
every other night. 

Hen. But, my dear, you can put new life into him. 

Mad. I certainly will after to-day. 

Hen. Quite right, my dear. But there is one thing that 
worries me a bit. They tell me that in spite of his work he 
has had time to meet some girl or other and- 

Mad. {aside). I wonder what he knows about me. 

Hen. Yes, some beastly disgusting creature with feet like 
(Mad. ■jumps up) trams {she sits do7Vfi), and hands like {bus.) 
Kipling’s ’ousemaid, I suppose. Probably ran across her in 
the course of his studies, and she, realizing what it would 
mean to marry into our family, has tried to land him. But she 
is playing for big game. 

Mad. {aside). Oh, is she? {Aloud.) But has he never 
mentioned her? 

Hen. Well, hardly, my dear. Ashamed of her, I suppose. 

Mad. {aside). The old hypocrite. 

Hen. But then we won’t worry about the baggage any- 

Mad. {jumping up). Mr. Fellowes, I won’t stand for this. 

Hen. Then pray be seated, my dear. (Mad. sits.) Now 
why the deuce do you have to go off in such a hullabaloo over 
this person whom you have never seen ? 

Mad. Why, you see, uncle, she is a woman. 

Hen. Egad, and so are you from the top of your head to 
the tips of your toes. Now if we only had- 

Mad. a cold bottle and a bird, eh, uncle? 

Hen. {aside). Wonderfully well advanced for a New Ro¬ 
chelle girl. {Aloud.) Ah,'well, we will see to that later. 
But here? Why I would as soon expect to find a race-horse in 
Dick’s bath as to see a bottle of wine about the place. (Mad. 
laughs.) Why, what was that? 

Mad. Merely a frog in my throat. 

(Hen. goes to bookcase.) 

Hen. To continue, I suppose the only thing that he has in 
his place are a lot of leather-bound law books. 

Mad. Yes; oh, I know he often wrote for money to 
buy- 

Hen. Now, how the deuce did you know that ? 





UP AGAINST IT 


II 


Mad. Why, they all do, don’t they? My brother- 

Hen. But you have no brother. 

Mad. No? (^Aside.') I might have known I had no 
brother. (A/oud.) Oh, yes, that’s so, uncle. But aren’t you 
a bit tired sitting here ? 

Hen. In the presence of so charming a young woman I 
should never tire. {Telephone rings 1) The telephone. Par¬ 
don me. (^Goes to telephoned) 

Mad. {aside'). That woman. {Aloud.) Let me answer 
it, uncle. 

Hen. Not while I am here to do it for you. 

Mad. But, uncle, I love to telephone. {^Bus.) 

Hen. You shall have one in your home, then, and I shall 
call you up all the time. But in this case I must insist. 
Hullo ! Hullo ! 

Mad. {sinking into chair). Help, help, oh, heelp ! 

Hen. I say—what the devil is going to happen ? No—no, 
I didn’t say go to the devil. Patience, please don’t faint yet; 
there is some one on the ’phone. No, I am not talking to 
you. 

Mad. Water—water. 

Hen. Oh, the deuce ! this is a very unfortunate thing. I 
will be right back. Hold on a minute. 

Mad. I shall faint. {Faints.) 

Hen. She has fainted. I’ll go and get some water. 

\_Exit L., rear. 

Mad. {going to 'phone). I don’t know who you are, but he 
isn’t here, he never was here; the directory is wrong; his tele¬ 
phone has been taken out for non-payment. Good-bye. ( Goes 
back to chair. Enter Hen., l., rear, glass of water in his 
hand.) I am feeling so much better now. 

Hen. Ah, that is good. {At 'phone.) Hullo.What’s 

that you are saying?.Hang up my receiver !.Mind my 

own damn business ? {Hangs up 'phone.) There was some 
one on the wire. {Sits down.) 

Mad. So I judged. 

Hen. Confound them, if they want me they can call again. 

Mad. Was it a call, uncle? 

Hen. For a moment I thought there was going to be a case 
of trouble on the line. {Faces her.) But it is all over. Now 
to business. The minute you and Dick are married I am going 
to hand the boy a check for one hundred and fifty thousand 
dollars. 






12 


UP AGAINST IT 


Mad. You promise that, uncle? 

Hen. My word on it. 

Mad. Then we will have a big house in- (^Crash off 

stage.) The woman ! 

Enter Ras., rear door. 

Ras. a most singular pusson to see you, sah. 

Hen. To see me ? 

Ras. Enter singular. 

Etiter Algernon Fitzgibbons, rear door^ brushing Ras. 
aside. 

Alg. Out of me way dere, youse wid de pajarama suit an’ 
de face like a mud storm. Out of me way. Say, can’t youse 
dope out a swell gent when you sees one unless he hands you 
de little gilt card wid de union mark on it ? Dust your blink¬ 
ers. {To Mad.) Hully gee, pipe de skirt. Beg pardon, 

calico, for the steam I jess- {To Hen.) Hey, dere, 

wing eye, where’s de sport dat holds de combination to dis 
safe? 

Hen. Confound your impudence, fellow. Rastus, show 
this person out. 

Alg. Naw Rastus ain’t goin’ to show no poisern out. 

Ras. Oh, yas, he am. Rastus goin’ show hisself out. 

\^Exity rear door. 

Alg. Say, a few more of dem lovely thoughts from youse, 
old rain in de face, an’ I bites me professional card in your 
eyeballs. See? I’m Algernon Fitzgibbons, I am, an’ me 
muscles is jess aching fer de chanct ter mop de floor wid ,yer, 
so low bridge. {Pushes Hen. back.) Aw, yer slippin’- 

Hen. Confound you, sir- 

Alg. Want me ter twist off yer nose? Now, dat’s better. 
Let off some of your steam. De choo-choo is in de station. 
Get wise. Say, where is de domino dat runs dis ranch ? 

Hen. If you mean my nephew, I am- 

Alg. Oh, I know wot youse is, me strangled bunch of 
caster lilies. Never mind all dat presidential message gag, an’ 
cut out de glad faced butler act. What I wants- 

Hen. Confound it - 

Alg. Pull in yere sheet; de wind’s died down. Now 
come along side. Don’t scrape off der paint. What, do I look 
like a children’s sewin’ circle? Ain’t got him tucked behind 








UP AGAINST IT 


13 


a curtain or in de odder dump, has yer? I’m wise, I am. 
I’m jess dat wise dat de owls has formed a union to boycott 
me. See. 

Hen. On my word, sir- 

Alg. Whoa. De race is off. Say, what I wants is me 
money for a case of laugh water—dat’s champagne, you know— 
dat I brought up here for de lily dat blooms in dis pond. 

Hen. For my nephew ? 

Mad. Oh, this is too funny. 

Alg. Givin’ me de ha ha. Say, rag, I’m on de level. 

Mad. You come with me ; I know what you want. 

Alg. Me for de musty trail an’ de pattern. So long, lilacs. 
(^Walks to rear door.') Aw, don’t get mussy. 

\_ExeHnt Mad. a?id Alg., rear door. 

Hen. Don’t get mussy—lilacs—musty trail. Rastus, Ras- 
tus ! 

Enter Ras., door r., rear. 

Ras. Here I is, sah. 

Hen. Have you ever seen that person before? 

Ras. Oh, yas, sah. {Enter Mad.) No, sah, I never see 
him before in all my days, sah. 

Mad. Isn’t that funny? He wanted the Mr. Fellowes on 
the floor below. 

Ras. Oh, lordy! \_Exit, rear door. 

Hen. Then, by George, I shall—^— 

Mad. Go out in the conservatory for a few moments with 
me, uncle. \_Exeiint, door r., rear. 

Enter Ras. and Miss Marjorie Harrington, rear door, 

Ras. Lady, yo’ certainly am in de wrong flat. 

Mar. Oh, indeed, person, is that so? Now possibly this 
isn’t the seventh floor. 

Ras. Oh, yas’m, it am, but- 

Mar. And perhaps Mr. Fellowes doesn’t live here. 

Ras. He lives here all right, but- 

Mar. Well, those were the instructions given me over the 
telephone by some female person. 

Ras. Possibly, miss, but you see- 

Mar. Never mind what I see. You go and tell your 
master that Miss Harrington, the girl he is to marry, is here. 

R*as. Yas’m. {Aside.) Lordy, master cain’t marry many 
more. {Exit, rear. 







H 


UP AGAINST IT 


Mar. Well, this is a nice reception from a man whom I 
haven’t seen in ten years and whom 1 am to marry ! Oh, 
Mr. Bob Fellowes, you will catch it from me, that is if 1 know 
you, and I don’t believe that I shall. But he might have had 
the decency to be curious enough to have been at home. 

Enter Hen., door r., rear. 

Hen. Now, where- (Aside.) A woman ! 

Mar. I beg pardon, old chap, but is this Mr, Fellowes’ 
apartment ? 

Hen. Why, yes, it is ; but I- 

Mar. Well, then, you may as well know that he and I are 
engaged to be married, and it wouldn’t bother me in the least 
if I were to see him. 

Hen. (aside). The girl of Dick’s that I heard about. Oh, 
what a minx to come up here this way. (Walks over so that 
each are at opposite sides of the table ; aloud.) Yes, my dear, 
1 am his uncle. 

Mar. Oh, uncle, darling! 

(Embraces him over the table; picture.) 

Hen. (aside). I have got to get this out of here before 
Patience sees her. (Aloud.) Won’t you step into this room 
here and wait until I can find my nephew? (Exeunt both, 
door i.., rear. Enter Weu. Walks across to door front.) 
Oh, there is going to be trouble here. \^Exit door front. 

Enter Mr. Robert Fellowes, rear door, on the run. 

Rob. Hullo I Oh, I say, hullo ! By Jove, but this is queer. 
That man of Fellowes’ told me that she came up here. She is 
the girl that I am to marry. Now I wonder what the deuce 
she looks like after all these years. Hullo 1 

Enter Mad., door r., rear. 

Mad. Did some one call ? (Aside.) A strange man. 

Rob. (aside). There she is now. (Aloud.) Yes. Is 
Miss Harrington here ? 

Mad. I am Miss Harrington. 

Rob. The deuce you say. Well, you are all to the goodski. 

Mad, I don’t exactly understand- 

Rob. Well, never mind that. You will in time. My, but 





UP AGAINST IT 15 

I’m glad that you have come. I’ve been all fired lonely lately. 
Come now, be a good sport and kiss your husband to be. 

(Crosses to her.') 

Mad. What do you mean- 

Rob. Well, if you are a bit bashful (Ras. sticks head around 
rear door), I will kiss you. (Kisses her.) 

Ras. Great Moses ! it’s a regular haramer. \^Exit. 

Rob. Come, now, don’t be angry. I’ll just run down-^ 
stairs and get my things, and we will beat it to the parson’s. 
Wait. \^Exit, rear. 

Mad. The brute ! He kissed me. Dear me, where can 
every one be? {Goes to door l., rear.) There’s a strange 
woman in Dick’s room. It’s the girl he is to marry. (Enter 
Rich.) Oh, dear ! 

Rich. It’s all off. She wasn’t there. 

Mad. Oh, I know it, sir; she is in there. 

Rich. What? (Crosses to door L., rear.) I can explain. 

Mad. Good-day, sir. \_Exit, rear door. 

Rich. My dear Madelene- 

Efiter Hen., door r., front. 

Hen. Oh, you gay young deceiver. By George, you shall 
dance a merry dance before I am through with you. You 
shall explain all of this to Patience and myself later, sir. 

\_Exit, door front. 

Rich. The devil ! He has found out who Madelene 
really is. 

Enter Mar., door l., rear. Slams it after her. 

Mar. I won’t stay in there. 

Rich, (aside). There it is. 

Mar. (aside). I wonder if that is Bob. (Aloud.) Are 
you Mr, Fellowes? 

Rich. Guilty in ths first degree. Are you the girl I am to 
marry ? 

Mar. To be sure I am. I'.ike a good look at me. Stand 
without hitching and all that sort of thing. I have heard that 
you are a good judge of women. Do I come up to the mark? 

Rich. My poor head ! 

Mar. Come on, now. We have been in the same room 




i6 


UP AGAINST IT 


with each other for at least thirty seconds now, and you haven’t 
kissed me yet. 

Rich. Really—you—see—I’m not used to this sort of 
thing. 

Mar. Kiss me. 

(As he does Mad. cofties into doorway at rear?) 

Mad. The villain! ' \^Extt, 

Mar. Who was that person ? 

Rich, (aside'). It was Madelene. (Aloud.) A few words 
of explanation- 

Mar. Plenty of time for that later, old chap. I’m off to 
find the fair maiden who appeared on the scene. 

\_Exit, rear door. 

Rich. Good Lord ! She mustn’t see Madelene. 

\_Exit, same door. 

Enter Hen., door i.., front. 

Hen. (pacing the room). Patience—Patience—Patience. 
Oh, I am all out of Patience. This is a lovely state of affairs. 
This is a pretty state of affairs. 

* Enter Rob., rear door. 

Rob. Hullo there, old chap. 

Hen. Confound you, sir. Now who the devil are you, sir ? 

Rob. Not a whole lot of your business, but then I am not 
ashamed of my name. I happen to be a Mr. Fellowes who is 
to marry- 

Hen. By George, you confounded impostor, you are going 
to do no such thing. How dare you come in here ? 

Rob. Say, look here, old skeesicks, don’t get too busy, or 
I will have to throw you out of the place. 

Hen. Oh, this is too much. (Fumes.) I will see about 
this later, sir. \^Exit in a rage door k., front. 

Rob. Rummy old cove that. (Enter Mad., rear door.) 
Ah, there you are, and as pretty as a peach. Well, are you 
ready? 

Mad. (aside). I’ll teach Dick to kiss other girls right before 
my face. (Aloud.) I will be. Have you seen that other 
woman ? 

Rob. (aside). I wonder what she knows about me ? (Aloud.) 
Oh, we won’t worry about the other woman. You are the only 
woman there is for me. (They cross.) 




UP AGAINST IT 


17 


E7iter Rich., rear door^ as they cross. 

Mad. I am so glad that I can trust you. 

Rich. Stop. 

Mad. Come, we will go out on the balcony. 

\_Exit, door R., rear. 

Rich. Oh, you home breaker. Great heavens ! What can 
all of this mean? I’ve got it. Madelene saw me kiss that 
other woman, and now she has gone off with that man. 

Eater Hen., door l., rear^ with champagiie bottle. 

Hen. Ah, there you are, you unprincipled young Mormon, 
you. What are you going to do with this lovely thing, sir? 
What is it, sir ? 

Rich. Bottle. 

Hen. a bottle. A bottle, is it ? And what is a bottle of 
this kind doing in your apartment, sir? 

Rich. Got it to feed my pet canary. 

Hen. What ? Well, how about your friend Algernon, who 
has been here to collect for a case of champagne. 

Rich. Case of champagne? Algernon? {Crosses to 
It is ail very simple. I can explain it all. {Points to bookcase!) 
Simply was champagne wood, same thing as mission wood, you 
know, simply a case made of champagne wood. Some one 
just called me. \^Exit<, rear door. 

Hen. Oh, you guileless young prevaricator, you smooth and 
oily tongued young Ananias. {Enter Mar., door r., rear.) 
That woman again. * 

Mar. Oh, there you are, you old darling. 

Hen. Yes, and here I go. \_Exity door L., rear. 

Mar. Queer family that I am going to marry into. {Enter 
Rob., by door front.) Hullo, here is another. Who are 
you ? 

Rob. {aside). Another woman. Has he got them all 
around the place? {Aloud.) Well, you see I am Mr. Fel- 
lowes, and I- 

Mar. Now, my bonnie, blue-eyed sir, you are nothing of 
the kind, for I have just been with Mr. Fellowes. Is this your 
apartment ? 

Rob. Why, no, but- 

Mar. Then don’t try to butt in. I shall take.great pleas¬ 
ure, Mr. what so ever your name is (Rich, appears at rear 
door)y in going out here with you. 

\^Exeunt Mar. a;?^RoB., door l., rear. 




i 8 


UP AGAINST IT 


Rich. Now he is with her. Oh, if Salt Lake City were 
moved on here how business would flourish. 

Enter Mad., door l., rear. 

Mad. Oh, there you are. Pray tell me why that handsome 
young thing is not here in your arms ? 

Rich. My dear Madelene. 

Mad. Don’t call me Madeljene, sir. From now on I am 
simply Miss Harrington to you. 

Rich. I can explain the entire- 

Mad. Explain ? Oh, dear me ! 

Rich. Well, possibly you will then- 

Enter Rob., door l., rear, followed by Mar. 

Rob. Hullo. Now what’s this- 

Rich. So you have come back, have you ? Want to laugh 
at what you have done, I suppose. 

Rob. Say, what do you mean by being alone in this room 
with her ? 

Rich. What do I mean by being alone—in this room— 
with her ? Oh ! 


^ Enter Ras., rear door. 

Ras. There’s—oh, Lordy, there’s another lady to see Mr. 
Fellowes. 

Rich, {in despair'). Another? 

Rob. (aside). I wonder if it is that other woman ? 

Ras. An’ she says, sir, as how she reckons-- 

Rob. Don’t let her in. 

Ras. But she insists, sah. 

Rich. Don’t let her in. 

Ras. Dat’s mo’ easy said than done, ah thinks. 

\^Exit, rear door. 

Mad. Mar.). You leave this place at once. 

Mar. {to Mad.). See here, old girl - 

Rob. (to both). Now look here, girls- 

Rich, {to Rob.). You have made enough trouble here 
already. 

Enter Ras., rear door. 

Ras. She says that she is here to marry Mr. Fellowes, 

Mar. (to Rich.). Another ? 







UP AGAINST IT 


19 


Mad. Oh, what a Mormon Dick is, 

Rob. {aside). That means me. 

Rich. Rastus, choke her. Don’t let her in, for heaven’s 
sake. 

Ras. Yas, sah. {Aside.) Must think I’m a pressing sys¬ 
tem to keep her under mah thumb. \^Exit^ rear door. 

Mad. You Mormon ! \Exity rear door. 

Mar. You deceiver ! \^Exit^ same. 

Rob. The devil! [^Exit^ same. 

Rich. I wonder what storm has blown in now. 

Enter Hen., by door'ia.y rear. 

Hen. {crossing stage). There, my gentle nephew, I sup¬ 
pose that you have heard that there is another woman to see 
you ? 

Rich. I know all about it. 

Hen. You do, do you? Well, what the deuce do you in¬ 
tend to do about it, you sallow-faced, woman-deceiving shrimp, 
you ? 

Rich. Start a harem. 

Hen. Start a- And I thought that you were a quiet, 

studious young man. Leave this place before I kill you. Not 
one cent- 

Rich, {crossing to Hen.). I can explain. 

Hen. That’s all you have done. Get out of here. 

Rich. All right. \^Exit, door r., rear. 

Hen. Explain—oh, the three-faced villain. In my day I 

was known to go some, but- {Enter Mad., rear door.) 

My child. {Embraces her.) 

Etiter Mar., door l., rear, as he does. 

Mar. Now his old nibs is at it. Naughty uncle. 

Hen. The devil! Come, Patience. 

[Exeunt, door L., rear. 

Mar. You will answer to Bob for this, sir. 

[Exit, door R., rear. 

Enter Rich, and Rob. by rear door. 

Rich. But why the deuce didn't you tell me in the first 
place ? 

Rob. Why, I was as badly confused as you were. 

Rich. Then the best thing that I can do is to call them all 





20 


UP AGAINST IT 


back and explain. Uncle ! Girls ! (En^er Hen., Mad. and 
Mar.) It has all been a horrible mistake. 

What do you mean? 

Oh, dash your excuses. 

Fact is, Miss Marjorie Harrington was to meet me. 
Are you Bob P^ellowes ? 

The same. 

The devil! 

And it wasn’t your fault, a bit of it, all of this, 


All. 
Hen. 
' Rob. 
Mar. 
Rob. 
Hen. 
Mad. 
Dickie ? 
Rich. 
Hen. 


Not a bit of it, my dear. 
Good Lord, what next? 


Enter Ras., rear door. 


Ras. 


All the wild animals done break loose. Look out fo’ 
de storm, Mr. Richard. She’s a-comin’, an’ I cain’t stop her. 
Rich. It’s all over, it’s all over. 


He is. 


Enter Miss Patience Dempster, rear door. Conies to c. 

Hen. Madam, what do you wish ? Is it not a bit indis¬ 
creet — 

Pat. Indiscreet, is it ? Not more so than to be wrestling 
on the first floor with an insolent nigger. 

Ras. Yas, and she can wrastle some, too. 

Pat. I am out looking for trouble now, I am—and a man. 
Is there a Mr. Fellowes here ? 

Rich. ( (^pointing to Rob.). 

Rob. I ( pointing to Rich. ). 

Pat. 'riiere seems to be some sort of a misunderstanding, 
and the Lord knows, I can’t marry both of you, so please 
settle it. 

Mad. {^pointing to Rob.). You marry him. 

Mar. { pointing to No, you marry him. 

Hen. As Mr. Fellowes- 

Rich. Shut up. 

Pat. Well, well. 

Hen. What the- 

Pat. Don’t you swear at me or, my conscience, I’ll make 
you eat them words. 

Ras. Yas, an’ she can do it, sah. 

Pat. Which of you is Mr. Fellowes? 

Mad. It’s not Dick. 




UP AGAINST IT 


21 


Mar. It’s not Bob. 

Pat. Well, then, who is it ? 

All (^pointing to It’s him. 

Hen. But who are you? 

Pat. {throwing her arms about him'). I am the one that 
you have waited all these years for. 

Hen. Widow, hey? 

Pat. No. Not hay—grass. 

Hen. But I haven’t waited- 

Pat. Oh, yes, you have. I am Patience Dempster. 

Hen. You are? (7b Mad.) And you ? 

Mad. The girl with hands like Kipling’s housemaid. 

Hen. Oh, Rastus. 

Ras. Yas, sah. 

Hen. Take this out and spill it down the elevator shaft. 
Ras. Yas, sah. {To Pat.) Come, honey, be spilled. 
{Exeimt Ras. and Pat. throtigh rear door, the latter with a 
frightefied look on her face. Crashes off stage. Enter Ras. 
with his hands up^ laughing.) She’s spilled; 


CURTAIN 






New Plays 

THE GOVERNMENT DETECTIVE 

A Play in Four Acts 

By Bernard Francis Moore 

Author of "Belle the Typewriter Girl," "Brother Against 
Brother," "The Moonshiner s Daughter," etc. 

Eight males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, four interiors. 
Plays two hours. A highly spiced melodrama suitable for performance 
by young folks or by their elders who like plenty of excitement. Easy 
and thrilling, like all the plays by this author. 

Price, 2y cents 

CHARACTERS 

Captain Wilbur Foster, a government detective; under the as¬ 
sumed 7iame of Paul Gray, a retired banker. 

John Arnold, the captain of a secret band of criminals. 

Martin Jackson, a wealthy young man. 

Alexander Adams, warde^t of the Jefferson Prison. 

Nick Morton, Foster s assistant. 

James Armstrong, a retired capitalist. 

Edwin Ray, his 7iephew. 

Peter, a clerk at the prison. 

Mrs. Laura Marston, a young widow and John s sister, 

Clara Armstrong, James' daughter and heiress. 

Efeie Jackson, Martin s sister. 

Mary, a servant. 

A PECK OF TROUBLE 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Five females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twenty 
minutes. A capital little play for young girls in or out of school; clean, 
bright and easy to get up. 

Price, If cents 

MUCH TOO SUDDEN 

A Corned}^ in One Act 

By Alice C. Thompson 

Seven females. Costumes, modern; scene, an interior. Plays thirty 
minutes. Mrs. Alston is a fond mother who cannot see that her daughters 
have grown up until they and all the rest of the world are aware of it. 
Her awakening is very funny. Clean and bright. Recommended for 
schools. 

Price, IF cefits 





New Plays 

THE TIME OF HIS LIFE 

A Comedy in Three Acts 

By C, Leona Dalrymple 

Six males, three females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interiors, 
or can be played in one. Plays two hours and a half. A side-splitting 
"Apiece, full of action and a sure success if competently acted. Tom Car¬ 
ter’s little joke of impersonating the colored butler has unexpected con¬ 
sequences that give him “the time of his life.” Very highly recom¬ 
mended for High School performance. 

Pt'icej 2^ cents 

CHARACTERS 

Mr. Bob Grey. 

Mrs. Bob Grey. 

Tom Carter, Mrs. Grey's brother. 

Mrs. Peter Wycombe, a personage." 

Mr. Peter Wycombe, a ‘‘ pessimist ” with a digestion, 

Dorothy Landon, secretly engaged to Tom Carter, 

Mr. James Landon, Sr., Dorothy's father ; of a peppery disposition. 
Uncle Tom, an old colored butler from the South. 

Officer Hogan, of the Twenty-Second Street Police Station, 


EETHER OR EYTHER 

A Farce in One Act 

By Robert C. V. Meyers 

Four males, four females. Costumes modern ; scene, an interior. Plays 
thirty minutes. A clever parlor play, similar in idea to the popular « Ob¬ 
stinate Family.” Sure to please. 

Pricey ly cents 

THE MORNING AFTER THE PLAY 

A Comedy in One Act 

By Willis Steell 

Two males, three females. Costumes modern; scene, an interior. 
Plays twenty minutes. An easy piece of strong dramatic interest, orig- 
inally produced in Vaudeville by Christy Clifford. Free to amateurs; 
royalty required for professional performance. 

PricCy ly cents 





W, ^metro’s Paps 

^cice, 50 Center 


TDE MAGISTRATE Thre© Acts. Twelve males, four 

. ' females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all 

interior. Plays two hours and a half. 

TBE NOTORIODS MRS. EBBSMITB 

Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors PI; ys a tull evening. 

THE PROFLIGATE ^even males, Sve females. 

^ Scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate ; 

costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF SCHOOIIVIISTRFSS FarcelnThreeActs. Nine males, seven 

' females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 

three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

TBE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY 

tumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 
SWFFT I A YFNHFR comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, four 

^ females. Scene, a single interior; costumes, 

modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIIWFS Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 

Scene, a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays a 

full evening. 

THF WFAKFR SFX comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, eight 

llilw TTliA CIl JL females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two 
interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITBOUT A SMILE 

modern; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 


Sent nrenfli<l of price by 

j Company 

One copy del. to Cat. Div. on, Massachusetts 


















041 305 998 


Cije ^tlUam WdLXxm Ctiitton 

of 

^rice, 15 Centjtf Caci) 


Comedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four 
females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, va- 
Plays a full evening. 


AS YOU LIKE IT 

lied. 


rAMIT [ F Drama in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. Cos- 
VA1T1IL<L(C tumes, modern ; scenery, varied. Plays a full evening. 


INHOMAD D^a.y in Five Acts. Thirteen males, three females. 
'inUUiTlAI\ Scenery varied; costumes, Greek. Plays a full evening. 


Tragedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four fe- 
me 

period ; scenery, varied and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 


MARY STUART males, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the 


THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 

picturesque; scenery varied. 


Comedy in Five Acts, 
males, three females. 


Plays a full evening. 


Seventeen 

Costumes, 


DirHFI IFII Play ill Five Acts. Fifteen males, tiyo females. Scen- 
cry elaborate ; costumes of the ]>eri()d. Plays a full 

evening. 


THF fflVAI ^ Comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. 
illF HI T Scenery varied; costumes of the period. Plays a 

full evening. 


SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER 

vied ; costumes of the period 


Comedy in Five Acts. Fifteen 
males, four females. Scenery va- 
Plays a full evening. 


TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL 

Acts, "^^n males, 

three females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, varied. Plays a 
full evening. 


Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

l^alter i^. I3a6ct S. Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 


». J PARKHILL A CO.. PRINTERS. BOSTON. U.S.A. 

















